


Plus One

by vic_amy_z



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-22
Updated: 2011-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:48:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vic_amy_z/pseuds/vic_amy_z
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's an important Wolfram & Hart function. Angel needs a date and Spike isn't making it easy for him. Will Angel make it to the ball…?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plus One

**Author's Note:**

> For the 'Forging Ghost' List - Challenge #26. It's silly and it's fluffy and I'm making no apologies for it, 'cause it was a helluva lot of fun to write!

'You are cordially invited to… blah, blah, blah…' Angel barely registered the rest of the words written on the stiff vellum. His head hit his inordinately large desk with a strangle cry of 'Crap! Crap! Crap!' As if he wasn't already in a bad mood.

'Whatcha doin''

Oh no, not now. Anything but…

'Spike. Not now, I'm busy.'

'Doin' what?' The bleached vampire took a seat on Angel's desk.

'Things…' replied Angel, tersely.

'What kinda things…?' Spike picked up a paperweight and began to toss it idly from hand to hand.

'Oh, you *are* kidding me, right?' Angel glared at Spike in disbelief. 'I mean the 'terminal ADHD' *is* an act, isn't it? Or am I going to have to have you put on Ritalin?'

'Aww… Bad news, Angel? Has your subscription to 'Brooding Monthly' been cancelled?' The paperweight slipped from Spike's hand and went crashing to the floor. 'Oops, butterfingers…' He made as if to pick up the pieces.

'Don't bother, I'll get it.' Angel walked around to the front of his desk and began to pick up the remains of another priceless artefact, lost forever.

'So, you've been invited to Wolfram & Hart's annual CEO weekend then, eh?' Spike asked rhetorically, waving the invitation slowly back and forth in one hand.

Angel realised he'd been played. He sprung up from his position on the floor and made a grab for the offending piece of card, but Spike was irritatingly faster. It always amazed Angel how Spike could manage to outrun, outsmart - out-anything him, so long as the result would be sure to piss him off. Angel launched himself at Spike once again, but his childe leapt up onto the desk and out of his way again.

'Hey! It says here 'plus one'. Does that mean that you get to bring a date then?' Spike leapt off the desk again and landed on the other side, closely pursued by Angel.

They played a ridiculous game of 'chasing-round-the-desk', until Angel roared, 'Give me that… NOW!' barely suppressing his game face.

Seemingly satisfied that he'd successfully got on Angel's one remaining nerve, Spike tossed the invitation casually onto the desk with, 'You only had to ask…'

Angel calmly repeated his mantra of 'I will not stake my childe, I will not stake my childe' to himself and sat down again.

'So, who's your date then, Angel?'

'Spike. I am *not* taking a date. We are *not* having this conversation. In fact, you are *not* in this office.' Calm. Breathe.

'But I *am* in this…'

'Sense the tone, Spike…'

'So, these Wolfram & Hart thingies…'

'GET OUT!' Angel's rage took him clean over the desk and barrelling straight into Spike. He picked the blonde up by his duster, opened the office door and hurled him bodily into the corridor before calmly shutting the door again.

 **~~~~~~~~**

'Hey! Watch the leather!' Spike yelled indignantly at the closed door. He made a huge show of getting up off the floor and dusting himself down.

Not a single one of the Wolfram & Hart employees batted an eyelid. Even Harmony. Spike guessed that they were probably getting used to his and Angel's arguments by now, which frequently ended up with Spike being tossed on his arse into a corridor.

He tried the door again. It was locked.

'Angel…'

'Go away, Spike.'

'Can't I just…'

'NO!'

'Poof,' he muttered, stalking away while he still had *some* pride intact.

Still, the day had not been wasted. 'So,' Spike mused aloud to himself, 'Angel's been called on by the Senior Partners, and he needs a date if he's going to show good form. I wonder who he'll ask first…?'

Spike let out a decidedly demonic chuckle, as he wandered off down the corridor…

 **~~~~~~~~**

Angel thought about the invitation all afternoon.

Angel was *still* thinking about the invitation when he wearily trudged up to his penthouse apartment at around three in the morning.

He knew from files he’d read on the company, that they threw one of these bashes every year for all the CEOs and senior staff of Wolfram & Hart’s branch offices. But Angel certainly hadn’t expected to get an invite himself, the LA branch being something of a wildcard these days - annihilated by a demon and rising from its ashes to be taken over by the very people who were only too glad to see it defeated in the first place. Strange times…

When Angel stepped out of the shower and climbed gratefully between the sheets of his large bed, he was *still* thinking about it. He clicked off the bedside light and closed his eyes. For almost half an hour, he tried to put the implications of his situation out of his mind, but it wouldn’t rest.

Resignedly, he clicked the light back on, picked up one of the files he’d brought upstairs and began to read about the Wolfram & Hart staff get-togethers of the past…

They were held pretty much every year - apocalypses permitting - and essentially, they weren't much different from any other large-scale corporate function; huge hotel, networking over cocktails, evening meal, social gathering, an overnight stay and an enormous expense claim. Oh, except these were held in another dimension.

Over the years, Angel read, the travelling arrangements and special requirements of a number of the attendees had proved too complex to continue holding it in the cities of its offices. And since Wolfram & Hart was a multi-dimensional law firm, it made sense to pick somewhere where everyone could be accommodated. So, attendees were simply provided with a portal to the chosen dimension - no more problems.

Then there was the 'date' part… He was pretty sure that it was nothing more than a power thing, but nonetheless, the records were very clear on the importance of that 'plus one partner, mate or concubine'. In fact, there was no mention anywhere of any CEO who had *not* brought someone, which Angel thought was very telling in itself.

'Damn it!' he cursed to himself. The fact of the matter was - he didn't have a date. Neither did he have a partner, or a mate, and he certainly didn't have a concubine…!

Of course, Cordelia would have made the perfect date for an occasion like this; immaculately dressed, absolutely stunning, and impeccably polite to all the right people. But sadly, that wasn't to be.

He briefly considered trying to track down Buffy, before deciding that bringing a Slayer to a demonic law firm's corporate event would probably be the fastest way to end his already less-than-illustrious career with said law firm.

Eventually, Angel decided that the best thing would be to ask a female friend and colleague to accompany him on a purely platonic basis. Unfortunately, these criteria left him with a list of just one… Fred.

Angel sighed and turned off the lamp once more. It was just something he'd have to deal with… in the morning.

 **~~~~~~~~**

'I just don't understand it. It was all going so well yesterday,' Fred moaned for the fourth time that morning.

''S okay, Pet. I'll help you sort it out.'

'Thanks, Spike, but I'm not sure there's anything you can do. I guess I'll just have to go back over my calculations and start again. I just don't understand it…'

Spike smiled in what he hoped was a sympathetic fashion at the harassed scientist, and headed for the door… just in time to see Angel coming through it. Spike decided to stay, after all.

'Hi, Fred. How's it going?' Angel asked, with false cheer.

'Oh. Well, it's not so…'

'Good, good. Can I talk to you for a minute?'

'Yeah, I guess.' Fred put down her sheaf of scribbled notes and perched on a stool, expectantly.

I've, er… Well, the thing is… I mean… Would you, er…'

Spike had to clamp his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. He certainly didn't want to draw Angel's attention to the fact that he was still there. But this? This was priceless! He found himself wishing he'd had the sense to bring popcorn…

'Did you… want something, Angel? Only…' Fred made a vague gesture to indicate that she, at least, wasn't getting any younger, and would he care to get his bloody great size tens out of his gob and get to the flaming point.

At least, that was how Spike interpreted it.

'Yeah, um… You see, I have to do this thing… for the company… and I need someone to, er... be with me… at this thing…I guess what I'm trying to say is, er… would you consider being that someone… who, er… comes with me… to the thing…?'

Spike was running out of things to cram into his mouth. This was the great Angelus, seducer of all creatures? Spike thought it was a bloody miracle that he'd got laid at all, if this was his usual come-on routine.

Finally, the penny dropped for Fred.

'Oh! You want me to… with you? On a company… thing? Together… sort of…'

On second thoughts, maybe they were perfectly suited…

'Yes.' Angel breathed an audible sigh of relief.

'Oh, I'd love to, but… Well, I'm working on this new trans-dimensional portal scanner for some really important clients, and it was all going to plan yesterday, but now… well, it couldn't scan its way out of a wet paper bag today. I'm sorry, Angel, but I won't have time to leave the lab for the rest of the week, and that's if I'm lucky.'

'Oh…'

'It was lucky that Spike was here this morning and spotted the loose wires. Otherwise, the beam could have gotten reversed and I might have transported the whole of the west coast into another dimension. Me and portals, huh…?' She smiled, weakly.

'So, *Spike* was looking at it this morning?'

'Yeah. He's been really helpful, too. Assisting me with the repairs and all.'

'Has he now…'

Spike felt the weight of his sire's stare fall upon him, and immediately assumed his most innocent-looking pose.

'Just, making myself useful, y'know…?'

'Oh, I know, Spike. *Believe* me, I know…' and with a glare that could've melted steel, Angel turned and stalked out of the lab.

Spike laughed gleefully to himself. One down…

 **~~~~~~~~**

It was the same story across the whole of the company; sudden deadlines, increased workloads, colleague absences, and a whole load of projects that seemed to have taken one step forward and two steps back overnight.

Not a single female member of staff that he'd asked had been able to accompany him. Of course, as CEO he could have insisted that they made time in their schedules, but that just seemed so… well… desperate!

And to top it all, Angel just *knew* that Spike was responsible - he just couldn't prove it. Although, why Spike would want to stop him from going to this event was what was really puzzling.

He called a meeting of the Angel Investigations team, minus Fred who was still working in the lab, to explain the problem.

'So that's it? Not one female is available in the whole company?' Gunn asked, incredulously.

'That's it,' Angel confirmed.

'You've asked *everyone*?' said Lorne.

'Well, pretty much…' He hesitated…

'You *do know* what you gotta do, don't you…?' said Gunn.

'Okay, okay, I'll ask her…' Angel sighed, pressed the button on the intercom and said, 'Harmony, could you come in here for a moment, please.'

Immediately, it buzzed back with, 'If this is about that date thing, boss, I'm not available either. Seems there's been some kinda mix up in Demon Resources and now, like, half the typing pool are on vacation for the next week, so I have to fill in. Thanks for asking me though… eventually!' and it clicked off again in a decidedly terse fashion.

'Whoa! Blown out by Harm… That's gotta hurt…'

Angel glared pointedly at Gunn's barely suppressed laughter, and the lawyer found something very interesting on the carpet that required his full attention.

'So,' Angel continued, 'I'm thinking that maybe one of you guys could do the honours…? In a purely professional capacity, I mean... obviously.'

Looks of horror passed from human to demon and back to human again.

'Oh come on, it won’t be that bad. Fancy hotel, executive suite… free bar?' The last point was directed at Lorne, who at least looked tempted.

'Well, I would, man,' Gunn began, 'but you know I got that big case starting Thursday. If I'm not there to defend our client then there's a very good chance that he'll eat the judge, and that does *not* look good in the company newsletter.'

'Okay,' Angel sighed. 'Wesley?'

'Likewise, Angel. I'm afraid I have an enormous amount of research that has to be done on a talisman that's been brought to us by a very high profile client. Leaving the office now is really out of the question… Sorry.'

'Lorne?' Angel said finally, trying to keep the edge of desperation out of his voice.

'Angelcakes, you know I'd stow away in your suitcase for the free bar alone…'

'But…?'

'But… I have the launch party for Mariah's new album this weekend.'

'Mariah's one of ours?' Angel asked.

'You have another explanation for 'Glitter'?'

'Good point.' Angel leant back in his executive leather chair and closed his eyes. 'So, that's it. Basically, I'm screwed.'

'Not just yet,' began Wesley. 'There may be one option that you've yet to consider.'

'I am *not* asking Eve. She's not female, and possibly not human either! And besides… she'll already be there.'

'I was actually thinking of Spike.'

Angel froze for a split second, and then threw his head back and laughed out loud until the tears were practically rolling down his face. He hadn't laughed like that in years.

'Oh, Wesley,' he chuckled, wiping his eyes. 'Thank you so much for that, I really needed ohdeargodyou'reseriousaren'tyou?'

'Well, it makes rather good sense when you think about it.'

'I *have* thought about it! Did you not just see the Spike-induced hysteria?'

'What I mean is, he's part of your family line, which shows longevity. And same sex couples are more widely accepted within vampire lore, so that shouldn't be a problem either.'

As the steam threatened to come out of Angel's ears, he could've sworn that the tiniest of smirks crossed Wesley's lips. Then before he could reply, and right on cue, Spike came waltzing in through the door.

'Ah, Spike,' Wesley continued. 'Just the person. Do you have any plans for this weekend? Only, Angel requires an escort to the Wolfram & Hart function, and we were wondering if you'd be able to accompany him?'

'Oh, your date thing, right?' Spike asked, innocently.

Angel nodded almost imperceptibly, which was just about all he trusted himself to manage without exploding.

'Yeah, I don't see why not. Haven't got any plans I couldn't cancel.'

'Marvellous! That's all settled then.'

Then Angel understood. The large-scale workload sabotage hadn't been to stop him from going - it had been to make sure that he took Spike!

With everyone else satisfied that the situation had been resolved, they left the office. Angel slumped forwards onto his desk for the second time in as many days, and quietly wondered how the hell he managed to get himself into these situations…

 **~~~~~~~~**

For the next two days, Angel was unbearable. He yelled at Wesley, he yelled at Fred, he yelled at Gunn, he yelled at Spike (who calmly gave him the finger) and he yelled at Harmony until she cried so much that Lorne had to give her the rest of the day off.

At this point, Lorne suggested that if he didn't have anything nice to say, perhaps he should consider keeping his trap shut and minding his own sodding business… or words to that effect.

From then on, Angel remained in his penthouse. Probably sulking.

On Saturday at precisely twelve noon, as instructed by Angel in a strongly worded memo, Spike was waiting in Angel's office. He'd also been instructed to fill out a registration form, stating his name, species and relationship to Angel. *That'd* been a lot of fun. He'd managed 'Spike' and 'Vampire' fairly easily for questions one and two, but the possibilities for question three were endless. He'd briefly toyed with 'immortal enemy', and 'pain in the arse'. He almost went with 'master' just to watch Angel explode, before dutifully sticking down 'childe' and leaving it at that.

A few seconds later, the elevator 'pinged' to signal His Broodiness' arrival from upstairs. He was dressed in a simple black wool sweater with tailored black pants and carried an immaculate Louis Vuitton overnight bag with a matching suit carrier.

Spike wore his favourite black jeans, a tight black t-shirt and his duster, and carried a small rucksack.

Angel gave him a withering look and stepped into the centre of the office. There was a kind of odd shimmery effect and a whooshing noise as the portal appeared, and Angel calmly stepped through it without a word.

Spike approached it more cautiously, first sticking his arm through, which made it feel all tingly, before finally stepping all the way through. There was more tingling and that dropping feeling you get when you lose your stomach on a roller coaster… and then it was over. The portal had closed behind him, and Spike found himself standing in the middle of a hotel lobby.

To say that the hotel was 'grand', was a bit like saying that the Empire State Building was 'fairly tall', or that the Sistine Chapel was 'quite pretty'. It oozed luxury from everywhere, from its ornate glass ceiling (necro-tempered, judging by the lack of flames) right down to its glossy marble floor. The lobby appeared to be a central atrium, looked down upon from every floor that circled it. Eventually, Spike remembered to stop gawking and hurried over to the reception desk where Angel was standing in line.

The receptionist was a beautiful shade of the palest turquoise, with dark turquoise hair that looked as though it was made up of tiny living strands. As Spike got closer, he realised that there *were* tiny living strands, which identified her as a Ge'hesh demon - a completely harmless race and very eager to please others, but rarely seen outside of their own dimension. He pulled up to a halt next to his sire, who was being greeted.

'Welcome to the complex, Mr Angel. We've been expecting you.' The receptionist smiled and fluttered her deep-blue lashes. 'Here's your key: suite four-seven-three on the fifth floor. I hope you enjoy your stay.'

Angel waited patiently while she turned back to her computer screen. After a few seconds, she looked up at him.

'Was there something else I can help you with?' she enquired, politely.

'Yes. The key for my... my…'

'Date?' Spike supplied, helpfully.

'Oh…' she gave them both a look of genuine surprise. 'I was given to believe that you and your… your…'

'Date?' Spike supplied again.

'He's NOT my date…'

'…that you would be sharing a suite. What with you both being vampires…' she trailed off without elaborating any further on the last part.

'Well, I'm sorry but you've been misinformed. Spike will be requiring his own suite.'

'Hell yeah!' Spike agreed, enthusiastically. 'A big one, too. With a bar… and a hot tub!'

'I'm terribly sorry, but the entire hotel is booked up for the Wolfram & Hart contingent. We have no spare rooms at all for this weekend.' She began to look a little flustered.

'Could you at least check?' asked Angel.

'I have checked, Mr Angel. We are…'

'Then check again.' The receptionist and her hair backed away from him slightly. 'We'll take anything - a spare broom cupboard if you have one.'

'Hey!'

'I really am sorry,' her voice shook a little, 'but we have nothing available at all.' By now, her hair was beginning to look quite alarmed, the tiny strands pulling themselves backwards in a group attempt to get away.

'So let me get this straight. There are *no* available rooms in the hotel. At all.'

'That's correct. I really can't apologise enough, Mr Angel, but as all the other delegates are sharing a suite with their… their…'

'Yes, yes. All right. ' Angel interrupted, before Spike could manage to say 'date' again. 'Thank you for you help.' He snatched up his bags and stalked off, leaving both the receptionist and her hair, looking very relieved.

Spike jogged to catch up with him.

'So…'

'Not a word, Spike. Not. A. Word…'

 **~~~~~~~~**

Angel swiped the key card and the door to their suite opened. He'd barely got a few steps in when he was practically bowled over by Spike rushing in from behind.

'Holy fuck, Angel! This room's bloody enormous!'

Angel closed the door behind his childe, carefully set down his bags and took a look for himself. The master bedroom was indeed verging on 'cavernous', with a vast four-poster bed in the centre. It was decorated in the darkest forest green with gold trimmings, and every window and poster was dripping with heavy velvet and damask drapes. In short, it was exactly what Angel would have chosen himself.

He briefly wondered if there was some sort of enchantment at work - he'd heard that Wolfram & Hart sometimes used hotels with simple charms placed on the rooms, to subtly alter their appearances and fittings to better suit the occupant. Whatever it was, Angel liked it a lot. It was just a shame that he had to share it with… where *was* Spike, anyway?

'Fuck me sideways!'

In the bathroom apparently…

'This is fan-fucking-tastic! Check out these facilities, Peaches!

Angel took one look into the en-suite bathroom, and knew at once that if there *was* an enchantment working, then it had definitely tuned into Spike for this room. It was done entirely in black and white marble, with the biggest sunken hot tub that Angel had ever seen, filled to the brim with hot, scented, bubbling water.

Angel sighed, feeling every one of his two hundred and seventy-odd years, and retreated back to the bedroom… where somehow, Spike was already bouncing on the bed - still in his boots and duster, which gave him a look not unlike a demented vampire bat.

'Hey! Get *off* my bed, you imbecile!' Angel growled at him. Why the hell he couldn't go and bounce on his own… and then it dawned on Angel. One room meant one bed!

'I think you'll find that it's *our* bed, mate,' Spike replied as he climbed off it, more than aware of the situation.

'No. Absolutely not. No way,' Angel stated firmly, 'I am *not* sharing a bed with you.'

'Well, I'm not sleeping on the floor, so you better get used to the idea.'

Angel shook his head. 'Never gonna happen…'

'Oh, unclench!' Spike said with a look of pity. 'If this bed were any bigger, it'd cross an international time zone. In fact, you could have brought the entire team and there'd *still* be more than enough room.'

Sensing that they'd reached a stalemate for the time being, Angel began to carefully unpack his bags. Spike finally took off his duster and threw it across a chair. Then he shucked off his boots and socks. Angel tried not to watch him. Then he pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped his jeans.

'What the hell are you doing?' cried Angel in horror.

'Going in the hot tub, dumbass!' Spike replied as he picked up his clothes and shoved them into the chair too.

'So? Do you *have* to get undressed out here?'

Spike turned around very slowly to face Angel, unashamedly treating him to a full-frontal view of his nakedness. 'Like I have *anything* you haven't already seen…' Then he sauntered casually to the bathroom, swinging his hips as he went.

Angel couldn't help but watch every step.

For the next hour, Angel tried to read his book and was treated to a soundtrack of splashes and enthusiastic singing of songs that he would pretend later he didn't know, as Spike thoroughly tested out the hot tub.

Eventually, he closed the book and lay back on the bed, doing nothing more than listening to his childe. In the comfort of the dark drapes and the subtle scent of the water, Angel was transported back to the times he had shared with Spike after his turning…

He remembered the big town house on the south coast of England that they'd lived in with Darla and Dru for a number of months before they'd left again for Budapest. He remembered how Spike would come in at dawn; dirty and bloodied from the kill, and how Angelus would wait in the bedroom, listening to his childe splashing and singing in the tin bath… How Spike would come crawling across the bed to him; warm and damp and naked, to spend the day curled in Angelus' arms, being taught the many ways in which a sire and childe could pleasure each other…

'Damn it!' Angel cursed softly to himself, realising that he was now as hard as a rock, and there wasn't a damn thing that he could do about it.

 **~~~~~~~~**

Several hours later, and Spike was methodically devouring the contents of the mini-bar, wrapped in an outrageously fluffy, black bathrobe and scanning the many hundreds of channels available on inter-dimensional cable television. Strangely, there was still nothing worth watching.

Angel had shut himself away in the bathroom for an inexplicably long time, straight after Spike had finally dragged himself away from the hot tub. He was now freshly showered and had disappeared into the small dressing alcove, because heaven forbid he should spend any time around Spike with less than five items of clothing on!

Pretending to be engrossed in an episode of M*A*S*H* dubbed into Fyaral, Spike leant back on the bed and carefully watched his sire out of the corner of his eye. He found Angel totally confusing these days, to say the least. For all the world, he acted as though Spike was nothing to him, as though their shared history amounted to little more that a few minutes of polite conversation. Yet when Spike had realised that he'd been singing some of the songs he used to sing, when he and Angelus were much more than just friends, he could have sworn that he'd caught the faint scent of Angel's arousal.

The man was a mystery wrapped in an enigma…or possibly just a dickhead!

Angel came back into the bedroom, fully dressed in an elegant tuxedo and looking every inch the company executive. Whatever anyone might say about Angel, and Spike was usually the first to say it, the man was one damn fine clotheshorse.

'Spike!' Angel said, irritably. 'Would you *please* get ready? We have to be there in twenty minutes!'

'Then in nineteen minutes and thirty seconds time, I will,' Spike replied as he flicked channels again.

'Do you even know what you're wearing?'

'Of course I do…! Jeans and a t-shirt.'

'You're not funny Spike…'

'Sorry, Angel… *Clean* jeans and a t-shirt, obviously.'

'SPIKE!' The warning tones were genuine this time.

Spike got up from the bed. 'Oh for fuck sake, lighten up Angel! Or I shall have to bend you over…!'

'What?'

'Well, how else am I supposed to remove that GIGANTIC STICK FROM UP YOUR ARSE?!'

The punch caught Spike completely unawares, snapping his head back and momentarily making him see stars. Sudden tears filled his eyes before he could begin to stop them. Not from the pain - he and Angel had beaten each other half to death before now, without a single tear being shed - but from the horrible realisation that *this* was all they had left, and no matter how hard Spike tried to re-build their bridges, it would always end like this. It hurt Spike more than any physical blow, and he hated himself for it. He tried to laugh at Angel, to show that he didn't care, but it came out sounding hollow and bitter.

'I'm going downstairs. You do what the hell you want, Spike, you always do. 'Cause in the end, it's always about you, isn't it? What you want. I don't know why I thought that this could possibly work!

The door slammed behind Angel.

 **~~~~~~~~**

If there was anyone who hated Angel more than he hated himself at that moment, he'd have been very surprised.

He stood at the bar, downed his third whisky in as many minutes and wondered if he was actually the biggest shit on the face of the planet.

What the hell had made him yell at Spike like that? He hadn't even meant half of it. And why on earth had he punched him? Okay, so Spike often made him mad enough to want to smack him one, and usually when he did, Spike smacked him straight back. So how come this time he just stood there, with that look on his face… Like he was going to cry, or something… Fuck!

Ever since Spike's enforced stay at Wolfram & Hart, and his subsequent decision to stay, Angel had been hoping that somehow they could manage to start putting their past behind them. But this was not the way he'd wanted to do it. He been so wound up over this weekend, that he really hadn't wanted to have to deal with Spike as well. And now his fears had proved to be right - he'd lashed out without thinking, and done even more damage. Another case of one step forward and two steps back…

He ordered another drink and steeled himself for the long night ahead.

The hotel's ballroom was a vast, beautiful room, decorated in midnight blue with hints of silver. Its high, canopied ceiling was studded with thousands of tiny lights, making it look like the night sky. Mingling within the room - and allaying Angel's worst fears that everyone would be parading around in twos, attached at the hip - were well-dressed humans and demons from every city in every dimension.

He placed his empty glass back on the bar, and launched into the obligatory 'meet and greet'. As he couldn't tell the invitees from their 'plus one's, Angel was sincerely hoping the fact that he was alone would go unnoticed.

For the next fifteen minutes, he worked his way dutifully across the room, speaking with those he knew and being introduced to those he didn't. He managed to successfully field a few awkward questions about the whereabouts of his 'date', but after his seventh conversation on the economic climate of 'god-knows-where', Angel found himself wishing that Spike *was* with him - at least he'd liven things up!

During a particularly boring conversation between the head of Wolfram & Hart's Moscow office and the newly appointed CEO of the Kosthia dimension, Angel's attention was drawn by some of the conversations happening around him…

'…see those eyes? Wasn't he just…'

'…mind sharing with that one! Whoever brought him is one lucky…'

'…from LA? I think that's what…'

Politely excusing himself, Angel turned to scan the room. There was a flurry of activity to his left and the crowds parted to reveal… Spike?

Angel felt his jaw literally fall to the ground, as every single coherent thought completely evaporated from his brain and his feet rooted him to the spot.

Spike stood less than fifteen feet away, chatting politely to a number of Wolfram & Hart executives as though it was the most natural thing in the world, but it was a Spike that Angel had never seen in his life.

He wore a completely black suit: jacket, pants, shirt and everything, which he carried off effortlessly, even with his usual black boots. His blonde hair was less severely slicked back than usual, and it fell into soft curls around his face. And his eyes… Angel couldn't stop staring. They seemed bluer than they'd ever been, with a hint of black eyeliner that highlighted them even more. The whole look was… mesmerising.

And not just to Angel, it seemed…

People seemed to be drawn to Spike like the proverbial moths to a flame, and Spike seemed to be loving every minute of it. Probably the last thing he wants is to see me, thought Angel, and turned away regretfully.

'Angel! There you are…'

Angel turned back so quickly that he practically gave himself whiplash, not even sure that it was Spike he'd heard. His eyes met those of his childe, and Spike held his gaze very solemnly for several seconds before flashing him a huge grin.

'Spike…?' Angel didn't know what else to say.

'Sorry I took so long, but you know me - late for everything!' Spike crossed to him, unmindful of the people surrounding them, and kissed him lightly on the cheek. Angel's eyes flew around the room, terrified of what others might think of such a display, but those who were actually paying them any attention at all seemed to be smiling in approval.

'Spike…?' He was starting to feel like a broken record.

'Hang on…' Spike craned his neck over towards the other side of the room. 'I think they're bringing us through to dinner. Let's go and find our seats, Angel, I'm starving.' And with that, Spike said his goodbyes to his new acquaintances, he grabbed hold of Angel's arm and dragged him off towards the banqueting hall.

Angel was still working on something beyond, 'Spike…?'

 **~~~~~~~~**

Spike was having a fantastic time.

He and Angel were seated opposite each other at the table, as all the 'couples' were, which meant that he could watch every reaction and look on his sire's face. At the moment, Angel was managing nothing more than variations on 'shock', 'incredulity' and 'disbelief', which he interchanged with gawping like a spawning trout.

Spike, for his part, continued to be charming to everyone around them, and soon proved to be the hit of the table. The men listened intently to his tales of their work at Wolfram & Hart, and the women giggled coyly as he made a point of chatting them all up.

His success also reflected well on Angel, with people complementing him on his choice of partner. Spike wasn't exactly sure what people were reading into their relationship, but as Angel certainly wasn't going out of his way to correct anyone, Spike went along with it.

He allowed himself a small moment to relax between courses. Everything seemed to be going well. He was being more or less the perfect date, which in turn made Angel look good, which made the LA branch look good. Yes, everything was going well…

A hand languidly stroked the back of Spike's neck, closely followed by a sensuous purr of, 'See, this is the one I was telling you about. Isn't he just gorgeous?'

And then there was a growl…

Yes, everything was going… a bit *too* well.

 **~~~~~~~~**

For the most part, the meal passed in a blur for Angel.

It was all he could do not to let his jaw dangle in his soup as he watched Spike, the one-man publicity machine, swing into action.

Angel desperately wanted to be able to talk to him - to tell him that he was sorry, to tell him that he hadn't meant what he'd said, to tell him how great he looked, and to thank him, but there was never an opportunity.

Yes, everything was a blur… right up until the point that someone actually touched Spike.

Angel had actually noticed a few vampires in the room earlier, but he didn't know them, nor had he been introduced to them. Now one of them had his hands all over Spike, he was keen to know as much about them as possible - particularly what his insides would look like when Angel was wearing them as a hat!

He had decided, somewhere between his twelfth and thirteenth glass of red wine, that he might possibly have a couple of control and possession issues when it came to Spike… which was probably why he appeared to be growling.

'So, you're the new CEO in LA, huh?' continued a voice like liquid sex.

Spike looked up at the vampire who was leering at him and made a kind of 'glurble' noise. Angel cleared his throat pointedly. Then kicked Spike under the table. Hard.

'Er… no, actually,' Spike stammered before finding his voice. '*This* is our CEO in LA.' He gestured towards Angel who rose to his full six feet plus, introduced himself and politely shook the vampire's proffered hand… without ripping it off, either!

'Oh. *This* is the famous Angel?'

Angel gave a nod that said: Yes, and you would be…?

'Marco. I'm part of the cross-European Special Projects division. This is my partner, Alex,' he said, introducing the vampire next to him.

It was then that it finally dawned on Angel… that Marco and Alex were *actual* partners… that they were both well-dressed, attractive vampires… that they were both exuding arousal like it was going out of style…and that Spike hadn't taken his eyes off them yet…

'Nice to meet you both,' said Spike, shakily, still not looking away.

'So, *you* would be Angel's…?' purred Alex.

'Yes. He would.' Angel stated, in a tone that invited no further questions.

'I see,' said Marco with a slight smile. 'Well, if you ever get tired of him… *Spike*…' He practically tasted the name as he spoke it. 'Or if you're not getting tired enough…' he left the last comment hanging as he slipped a small, black business card into Spike's top pocket. 'Ciao, bella…' Marco kissed two fingers and touched them softly to Spike's cheek before slipping his arm around Alex's shoulders and sauntering away.

There was an awkward silence around their table, and Angel realised that he was still standing. He took his seat again and made a conscious effort to unclench his fists.

'So, I'm your what…?' asked Spike, smiling innocently.

'Don't tempt me.'

'Fine, Angel,' he sighed wearily, 'you win. Have it your way.'

Cryptic speech apparently over, Spike stood up and calmly walked out of the room.

 **~~~~~~~~**

'Shit! Shit! Shit!' Spike yelled over and over to himself, looking for a handy wall to bang his head against.

He'd slipped out of the hotel complex and was standing in the immaculate gardens, fumbling in his pockets for a cigarette.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He'd had a plan this time: Get Angel to bring him along - check. Seduce Angel with his good looks and sexual magnetism - okay, so that part hadn't gone exactly as planned, but the final part of the plan, where he showed Angel that he was capable of being the perfect partner for at least one evening *had* been going well. It just hadn't allowed for being hit on by other vampires. Or for growling.

What was it about Spike and plans? He knew that he should just give them up.

And why the hell did Angel act all jealous when someone else showed an interest in Spike, when it was obvious that, despite Spike's best efforts, he wasn't the slightest bit interested in Spike himself?

On the sixth check of all of his pockets, it became patently clear that in his haste to get dressed and find Angel, he'd managed to leave his cigarettes behind.

'Fuck it!' he cursed to himself. Pissed off beyond all belief, he turned and headed back to the hotel room.

 **~~~~~~~~**

What the hell was that all about? Angel wondered to himself, watching Spike hurry from the room. He excused himself to his fellow diners and began to follow him. However, as he moved down the side of the banquet hall, it appeared that a certain vampire couple were already two steps ahead of him.

'Oh dear, Angel,' drawled Marco, stepping into his path. 'Your date appears to have left in rather a hurry. I do hope you haven't upset him.'

'He's fine,' Angel hissed back. 'I'm sure he'll appreciate your concern though.'

'I have a lot of things that I'm sure he'd appreciate. Perhaps I should go and find him?'

Angel grabbed the leering vampire by the throat and slammed him hard against the wall, his face only inches away from Marco's. 'You stay *away* from him. You hear me? He's mine!' There was a polite throat clearing to his right, and Alex laid a hand firmly on Angel's arm, forcing him to loosen his grip on Marco. Angel dropped his hand and stepped back. 'He's mine,' he reiterated.

'But does he know that?' Marco asked simply, before calmly straightening his immaculate suit and walking away, leaving Angel even more confused than before.

Then it dawned on him. He mentally congratulated himself on being even more stupid than he'd previously thought and hurried out of the room. He just hoped that he could find Spike before he decided to leave.

Behind him, two vampires smiled at each other and touched their glasses together in celebration of a job well done.

 **~~~~~~~~**

Spike bowled through the door of the suite at enormous speed, only to come screeching to a halt in an almost comic fashion.

Angel was sitting on the end of the bed, his head in his hands, staring at the floor. When he saw Spike he stood up quickly, but then stopped again, as if at a loss as to what to do.

Spike looked him up and down in the silence that stretched out between them. He was a magnificent looking man, and there would probably never be a day go by when Spike wouldn't think about him in some way, but this pathetic wanting had to stop. Spike couldn't go on kidding himself like this any longer. It'd drive him insane, and he'd been there once, thanks.

'Look, about what…'

'Spike, I'm sorry about…'

They both started speaking at once, and then they both tried to let the other one speak. Taking a deep breath, Spike said, 'you first.'

'I'm sorry.' Angel sat back on the bed again, but Spike held his position in front of the door.

'That's it?'

'No, of course that's not it. I mean…' Angel sighed. 'I think I might have been a bit of a shit to you recently.' He looked up at Spike.

'No arguments from me there.'

'It's been brought to my attention by… certain people, that I might have been giving you some mixed messages about… how I feel, y'know?'

'That would be the whole 'you're-a-gigantic-pain-in-my-arse-and-I-never-want-to-have-anything-to-do-with-you-ever-again-just-as-long-as-no-one-else-ever-goes-anywhere-near-you' thing, right?'

'Well, I wouldn't have put it quite like that…'

'Then you should, Angel. Christ!' Spike threw his hands up in exasperation. 'I worshipped the fucking ground you walked on for so long that I can't remember what it feels like not to have you in my life any more!' He sighed and let himself relax a little, trying to take the anger out of his voice. 'I might have been off doing my own thing for the best part of a century, but to me, you were always there, Angel. Always.'

Angel just sat on the end of the bed, staring at him.

Spike continued, quietly. 'I never forgot what we had together. Never forgot how good it used to be. And I never forgave you for leaving me, no matter what the circumstances.'

'But how could I…?'

'Oh, *now* I understand. Now I know what it does to you,' he touched his hand softly to his own chest. 'But for so long, all I had were the memories of what we used to be to each other, with no…' He laughed softly. 'I used to think that if I could just bring Angelus back, then everything would go back to the way it was. Soon found out how wrong I was when he pitched up in good old Sunnydale, huh?'

'Spike, I'm sor…'

'Stop apologising!' Spike snapped. 'I'm not telling you any of this so you can be sorry.'

'Then why are you telling me this?'

'I… I don't know… Fuck!' Spike yanked off the jacket of his suit and threw it across the room. Spotting his cigarettes by the side of the bed, he crossed the room and snatched them up, fumbling with his lighter in an attempt to light one.

And suddenly, Angel was standing next to him, taking the lighter gently from Spike's hand and touching the flame to the end of the cigarette. Spike looked into his eyes, trying to catch a glimmer of his feelings, but saw only more questions. Slowly, they sat down next to each other on the huge bed.

'You never wondered why I didn't go skipping off to find Buffy and the rest of the Scoobies, as soon as I got the chance?'

Angel just shrugged.

''Cos I thought that we might actually start to find some common ground again, if I stayed with you in LA. I thought that I could show you that I'm not the same childe you abandoned all those years ago. That we could actually be… friends?' Suddenly remembering the cigarette that was smouldering between his fingers, Spike took a deep drag, pulling the smoke into his lungs and watching as he exhaled. Wanting to be anywhere other than having this conversation.

Angel remained silent, staring down at the floor.

 **~~~~~~~~**

The fact that Spike had had the same idea of them trying to have a new start was something of a revelation to Angel, although he didn't show it. If they both wanted this - if they both wanted to put the past behind them and find a new way forward, as friends - maybe even more, then why did they both keep missing it? Were they destined to fight and fuck-up forever?

'But we'll never be friends, will we?' Spike's voice cut across Angel's thoughts. 'We fuck and we fight, but we'll *never* be friends.'

Angel smiled. 'Haven't I heard that little speech somewhere before?'

'Maybe…' Spike smiled back. 'And I was right then too.'

'But this time, you're wrong, Spike. I want a new start as much as you. I want us to friends this time… more than friends.'

'Argh! You can't keep doing this to me, Angel. I won't settle for being yours when you think there's a chance I might find someone else. I've been shattered once too often to settle for second best any more.' Spike dropped his head into his hands.

Angel knew, deep inside, that they had to have this conversation. That they needed to talk out all the years of crap between them before they could start to slowly build anything resembling a friendship. And that a friendship would need time to grow and strengthen before they could even think about becoming more than friends.

But even deeper inside, Angel knew Spike.

Before he gave himself chance to think about the implications, he took a chance on that knowledge. What else did he have to lose?

'I just don't know what… mffgh…'

Angel pulled Spike towards himself and kissed him hard. Spike pulled back and stared at him, for once, silent.

'You'll *never* be second best,' he stated, simply. And before Angel could begin to explain himself, Spike was wrapped around him, kissing back with a passion that Angel had forgotten could exist.

 **~~~~~~~~**

Oh god, he was falling! And the only thing Spike knew with any certainty at that moment, was that he could do nothing to stop it. Because Angel was kissing him… Or he was kissing Angel… There was definitely kissing of some sort going on.

Somehow, they'd fallen backwards onto the bed, still locked together. Angel's tongue was in his mouth, hands were roaming over his body, and he never wanted it to stop. Spike tangled his fingers in Angel's hair and rolled onto him, letting out a groan of pleasure when he felt Angel's hardness pressing against his leg.

'Spike, I can't…'

'Shut up, Angel, please. Before you have a fit of conscience and take all this back, just let me enjoy it for a bit longer, eh?' Spike mumbled as he licked his way down Angel's neck.

'I was going to say that I can't undo your buttons when you're lying on top of me.'

'Oh.' Obediently, Spike sat up to allow access to the hands that seemed to be shaking just a little. Angel's eyes devoured him whole and Spike was falling once again.

All finesse gone out the window, hands pulled impatiently at buttons and zippers, tearing clothes in an effort to feel skin on skin. They rolled together on the wide expanse of bed, and Spike couldn't help but gasp at the full body contact. Angel's arms were wrapped around him, pulling him closer as Spike thrust against the leg that had been pushed between his. He wanted it so much. He'd never stopped wanting it. Wanting Angel.

'Please…' Angel murmured to him. 'I… please… ' Words of want and need were whispered sotto voce against Spike's skin, making it tingle in anticipation.

He was on the verge of capitulation when Spike realised that he was still waiting to hear the words. 'Mmm, yeah… Tell me what you want, Angel…'

Hands and lips mapped out their desires on his body, as Angel rose to cover Spike's body with his own. 'Spike… please…'

'For god sake, Angel, just say it!'

Angel stopped and pulled away. He sat back on his heels, as if he was trying to work out whether Spike was actually serious. Spike raised an eyebrow at him and waited.

'Fine.' Spike found himself fixed by an intense gaze. 'I want you, Spike. I want to fuck you. Right now. I want to slide into you for the first time in more years than I can remember. I want to hear you cry out my name as you come… and I want to do it in there.' Angel gestured towards the bathroom.

'Fuck, yes…' Spike practically whimpered.

A split second later, two vampires were tumbling off the bed, laughing and tugging at their remaining clothes as they dashed across the room.

 **~~~~~~~~**

Angel lowered himself carefully into the hot tub, which was still bubbling and steaming away, and then wished he hadn't got there first, when Spike decided to dive-bomb in on top of him, landing with a resounding thump at the bottom of the deep tub! Any reservations he had soon evaporated as Spike surfaced; his hair was turned into a mass of curls by the water and his eyeliner was smudged, making him look every inch the fallen angel. He swam the small distance between them, fixing Angel with that oh-so-familiar cornflower-blue stare that made him harder than ever.

Angel sat on the wide seat that ran around the inside of the hot tub, the water bubbling around his chest. Spike knelt to face him, straddling his legs. Their lips met once again and Angel wrapped his arms around his childe's waist, pulling him down in the buoyancy of the water. The need to take Spike was starting to consume him; Angel thrust upwards, trying to manoeuvre Spike into the right position but he wriggled away, lapping the tub with an iniquitous grin before disappearing below the surface once again.

Angel desperately tried to see what Spike was doing but the bubbles distorted his view. Then, in the heat of the water, a cool mouth fastened onto him, and Angel moaned at the sensation as Spike began to suck slowly.

Two minutes later, he was thanking every god in existence for the fact that vampires don't need to breathe. Three minutes later, he was trying to name them all just to have something else to focus on. Four minutes later and he was trying to remember his *own* name… Just when he thought he couldn't hold on any longer, Spike came up for air, still grinning wickedly.

'You evil little…' Angel grinned back. Before Spike could slip away again, Angel grabbed hold of him, pulling him back on to his lap and kissing him fervently. They rocked together, both desperate for more than the gentle friction between them.

Angel shifted slightly, and felt himself being pressed against Spike.

'Like this…?' Spike whispered.

Angel nodded, unable to form any other answer. Slowly, Spike lowered himself down and Angel's world fell away…

 **~~~~~~~~**

Fuck!

Spike's eyes were screwed up tight, his breathing erratic as he tried to relax and push past the pain. How could he have forgotten how much this hurt? He knew that Angel was pushing as slowly and gently as he could, but with no preparation, it still felt like someone was rearranging his insides.

He gritted his teeth and rode it out. He knew that it was about to get so good…

A few moments later Angel was fully inside him and all thoughts of ever stopping went out of Spike's head. He tried to move to meet Angel's thrusts, but the water held them back, forcing them to keep their movements slow and shallow.

Facing Angel as they moved together, Spike was able to look straight into his eyes. The desire he could so clearly read in them allayed all his fears about whether he'd made the right decision in coming here. He'd known Angel for a hundred and twenty four years, and had waited for over a hundred of them to see that look again.

'Fuck! This is killing me,' Angel breathed, pulling Spike against him. 'I want you so much…'

Hidden against Angel's neck, Spike smiled to himself. 'Just do it, Angel,' he grinned in reply.

Despite the weight of the water, Angel moved faster; gripping Spike's hips tightly as he thrust into him and making Spike curse in every language he knew as he hit that spot that made him want to scream. Angel reached between their bodies and took hold of Spike, stroking him to their ever-increasing rhythm as the water crashed around them in miniature tidal waves.

Their motions reached a crescendo as Angel bucked his hips beneath him. Above the roar of the water, Spike heard himself cry out Angel's name as he came…

 **~~~~~~~~**

Much later, when they were curled together in the vast bed, Angel just had to ask the question that had been preying on his mind.

'Why'd you do it, Spike?'

'Huh?'

'Why'd you want the invite so badly?' Angel replied. 'I mean, it's not like you had any of this planned…' he gestured towards the now waterlogged bathroom.

There was a pause as a plume of smoke rose contentedly from Spike's side of the bed. He turned to face Angel, still-damp curls rubbing against the pillow. 'Didn't I?'

'Huh?' It was Angel's turn to be confused.

'Well, maybe not *this*,' Spike admitted, grinning, 'I just thought that if we could get away from Wolfram & Hart for a bit, then things might… I dunno… be a bit better between us.'

'Is this the kind of 'better' you had in mind?' Angel asked, comically.

'Well, I didn't want to presume too much.' He reached across Angel to put out his cigarette in the ashtray. 'The others'll be pleased to know they were right though…'

'The others…?' It was a sentence that Angel just knew he'd regret starting.

'Jees, Angel! You don't think I managed all this by myself do you?'

'So the mass work sabotage was…?'

'Mainly Lorne and Fred, with a bit of help from Wes, Gunn and Harm. They did all the alterations on the rotas and scheduling. And the suit was down to them too.'

'But… how…? Why…?'

'I believe Lorne's actual words were, 'In the name of all that's unholy just have at it will you, before the sexual tension around here makes my head explode!' Something to do with him being able to read people, apparently. Said we were driving him nuts.'

'And the rest of them?'

'Well, it seems that Fred's just really perceptive when it comes to these matters, Wes knows far too much from reading those bloody Watcher's diaries, and for some reason, Harmony actually thinks it's cute.'

'Oh god…' Angel groaned at the thought. 'I've been had, haven't I?'

There was a chuckle next to him. 'One step at a time, eh Pet…?'

 **~~~~END~~~~**


End file.
